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The night sky was splayed with darker paint than usual. Since it was devoid of the moon and the stars had felt that it was an obligation for them to attend. The cold had been prevalent since the morning but as the night grew deeper, it was growing unbearable. The fact that New York City never slept didn't add up on the misery of the atmosphere.
Moving through the lanes in between the already shaded streets, a man slowly stalked into the lit-up club. His hair perfected into a quiff with his suit perfectly ironed into the rusty charcoal black it was. Tonight it had been devoid of his expensive silk ties and had let his top two buttons down.
"Do the two of you have a reservation?" The bouncer questioned his eyes raising up in suspicion at the presence of the woman in his arms.
"Yes, under Reginald Paul." The fiery-haired woman asserted.
Choosing not to comment, he beckoned another bouncer to guide them inside. He noticed how delicately designed the place was. Neatly dividing the extensive establishment into the male and female while a wall separating them. The performers got onto the stage from the basement directly onto the floor and disappeared back in when their acts were over.
The man in the suit didn't take long to ignore them all and manoeuvre the woman in his arm towards the second-floor balcony which oversaw the entire strip club.
Moving into the reserved area, he sat down alongside the redhead and raked their eyes through the men and women placed appropriately, gliding down the poles.
"I'll go get us a drink."
"Come back soon, sweetheart." The redhead smiled and pecked his cheek.
Holding her chin up, his fingers laced through her hair, "You're enjoying this way too much, finally considering me over Rachel?"
Snorting, she darted an amused look at him, "Get me wine, my love."
Raising an eyebrow in amusement, he left to the bar to order for himself and Donna.
While he waited for his drink to be made, the brunet heard voices seeping through the music. Moving towards the direction of the argument, he stalled outside the curtained alcove.
"Finnian, it's my fucking University fees we're talking about, I've been riding on my good grades for weeks!" The male voice argued frustration was thrumming in his voice.
"Mike," Finnian responded in an attempt to calm the other man down, "I'll give the money as soon as possible, I promise."
"You told me that a month back!" Mike's voice resonated, "This is med school, Finny! Not a local drug joint!"
"I've been working extra on weekends too. I'm doing private performances." He added.
"Mike, fucking chill. I'll get it." Finnian promised.
It was evident that the conversation was drawing a closure and he gently guided himself away to the bar. He knew Finnian and he knew his underling Trevor, they co-operated the drug scene in parts of Brooklyn and Manhattan alongside the strip club. And they owned him a very hefty amount of money. Borrowing was one thing. Borrowing from a Crime Lord who had New York in his pocket was an entirely different thing.
Finnian Welsh was overdue by a gigantic margin to him and Harvey Specter wasn't going let him ski around with ease. He had strategically chosen this day to plan out the attack. The fact that he didn't identify the Mafia Boss since Harvey hardly made himself public to any part of his business. He tried to keep his face scarce so I'm situations like this he could stroll in without being questioned.
There was going to be lockdown plus a shootout and Harvey was going to witness it all sitting on top like the King he was alongside his right hand and best friend for years, Donna Paulsen.
The meeting in the alcove had disbanded and Harvey noticed the man had moved towards the bar while Finnian quickly moved downstairs while being immersed in a phone conversation.
Sliding up beside Harvey, Mike, from what he heard from the conversation called out the bartender.
"Steve. Get me two shots." He addressed.
Dressed in lace shorts and a formal shirt, the man was barefoot in a strip club. His hair messy with his blue eyes evidently showing bags underneath them. The lean structure of him was very evident underneath the little clothes he wore.
"You know the rules, I can't serve any of the workers' alcohol before they go on stage." He told him but drew his lips into a smirk and whispered to him, "Although, I would look away if you gave me a private show after my shift, you and me."
"Sure," the man smirked deviously.
In no time two shots were placed before Mike. Gulping one down, he turned to turn back to Steve. "That was refreshing."
"Now the private show," Mike forced a smile onto his face, as Steve leaned a bit forward. Picking the second shot, he splashed it on his face.
"The next time you ask for a favour of this nature, I'll take the heels I wear for my shows and carve your eyeballs off your sockets." He told him with a sweet smile, plastered to his face.
Harvey was intrigued was an understatement. He hadn't seen this sort of fire in anybody since he had met Donna. This man was honestly something.
Treading back to his best friend, he took a seat and easily recognised Mike getting up on the stage. His shorts were thoroughly visible now. The black lace in perfect contrast with his thighs, accentuating his ass. His shirt still stayed on, as he slid down the pole in the dark stilettos which garnered wolf whistles effortlessly.
Harvey noticed how easily he twirled around the pole and the kind of attention he gathered when he just got onto the stage. It seemed as though he was watching a snake sliding down the pole. Fascinating.
Raking his eyes through the crowd, his gaze finally collided with Harvey's and at that moment the Mafia Boss genuinely felt like electricity struck him. Mike's blues had a sultry inviting ambience to them, something which fell in between seduction and exigency.
He wanted this man.
As he moved alongside the stage, his shirt slid off his shoulders and pooled at his feet. God, he was beautiful. His skinny frame with hollow collar bones made him want to run his tongue over. His gaze moved through his entire body, drinking whatever was available to him. Lurking back to his lips, he took note of how easily they slipped in between his teeth and moved out.
Satisfied with his performance, he averts his gaze with a smirk fitting his lips and rolls down the pole entertaining the others.
If Harvey was reading him appropriately, Mike clearly didn't indulge in the same intimacy with other customers. His eyes flickered through the crowd and grew bored, as his act remained inducing but his eyes were plainly burdened.
And almost inevitably, his eyes flickered back to Harvey's person. Smirking as he leaned back on his sofa, Mike continued his act with a smile which had suddenly transferred its nature from smug to shy.
What a kitten.
"If you're done with your eye-fucking session," Donna whispered into his ear, "I'm calling Louis and the team in."
Watching Mike get down the stage for an impromptu reason, Harvey nodded his head in approval. "Ambush, right now. Finnian cannot escape."
* * *
It happened exactly the way it was estimated. A lot of gunshots. People scrambling around accompanied by vocal noises known as screams.
Many of the spectators had just escaped while the strippers remained confined to the basement. Finnian, however, was caught. Finnian and Trevor were caught. Harvey did not particularly want to catch hold of Trevor but if he so willingly walked into the trap that Harvey hardly objected.
"Look Finnian, we can do this the easy way or the hard way," Harvey told him sitting down on the chair he placed before him. "You clearly aren't going to pay up anytime soon."
"So here's what you're going to do," Harvey tells him, "you're going to hand over this entire club to me and this becomes a part of my business empire and I'll let you live with whatever scraps you have left."
"And if you have any retaliation to this," he began with his eyebrows raising, "I'll get this club after I kill you and dispose your body to my pet cobra or Lions if your body doesn't decompose by the time it reaches Dubai."
Finnian took a deep breath, Harvey knew that he was aware that this was a deadlock.
"The ball is in your court but I have you by the balls." Harvey declared with a smirk and handed over the papers to him.
Finnian's skin was glistening with sweat. Wiping the beads of perspiration, his hand returned to the papers handed over to him. Turning the page, his whiskey gold eyes stared up at Mafia Lord.
Gulping he looked back at Trevor and spat out reluctantly, "Fetch Mike."
"I want someone who knows what's written on these papers." He told the Mafia Boss.
"And Mike is a lawyer?" Harvey questioned.
"The kid's a genius," he muttered under his breath, "he has this thing what they call an eidetic memory and remembers every fucking thing."
"He passed the Bar exam without going to law school." Trevor informed him. "And I'm not kidding when I say that, he is like a walking Google."
"I want him to look this up." Finny negotiated.
"Fetch your boy then."
* * *
Harvey had sent Kyle and Trevor to fetch the so-called walking Google. The two of them returned as quickly as they went in but without his Mike's presence.
"He said and I quote," Kyle began, desperately attempting to hide his grin, " 'I'm not his bitch that's Trevor so ask him to assist him in whatever fuckery he wants me for.' "
Harvey was amused but didn't let the expression take form onto his visage and looked at Donna who was smirking at the response. Volunteering, she addressed Harvey, "I'll fetch him."
Harvey shook his head in negation to the statement and told her, "I'll get him."
Moving towards the basement alongside his guards, Harvey knocked onto the room. He recalled Kyle narrating the insides of this club and he was well informed of the fact that there were two common dressing rooms for the two genders. But Mike had a private room. This man was getting interesting by the second.
Knocking on the door, he heard a muffled response, "Fuck off, Finny!"
"Not Finny. I am Harvey Specter and we need your presence."
There was a pregnant pause and Mike's voice came back up again, "The Mafia Boss?"
"If that's what you call it."
Another moment later, the permission grew explicit, "The door isn't locked."
Twisting the knob, it turned out that the door was indeed not latched. Asking the guards to stay in place, he moved inside to see the small space given to the so-called Star performer.
The dark pink room had golden lighting with his outfits neatly place on various holders and a huge mirror which had been shattered, laying its shards on what seemed like a makeup kit before it and a few notebooks stacked upon one another. A couch occupying Mike was the last addition to the private room.
But what Harvey didn't notice was the unconscious man behind the door. Recognising the man from the bar, he turned to look at Mike who was wrapping his calf with a bandage. Getting up from the couch, he looked at Harvey.
"What do you want?" Mike questioned.
Mike had been crying and from what he estimated with the state of the room, he knew the answer was Steve.
Closing in towards Mike, he noticed the man getting away to place a distance between them which initiated Harvey to move closer.
With the wall finally behind him and Harvey in front, Mike was evidently trapped. He was distinctly oblivious to what he needed from the stripper.
Pressing his body against Mike's own, Harvey's fingers laced up to his jaw, "Are you okay?"
"Except for the fact I could've almost raped if I hadn't knocked him out, I'm fantastic." Mike retorted, his eyes growing icy cold but then immediately averted his gaze to the floor.
Intrigued by the response, he shook his head in acknowledgement, "I'm glad you knocked him out then."
Mike stayed silent on the answer given and questioned him, eyes still on the floor, "What is it that you want with me?"
"I heard you passed the Bar exam without going to Law school."
"Yes."
"Prove it."
Mike bit his sinful lips and looked up at him, "You went to law school, right?" He asked him to which Harvey nodded, "Tell me anything you remember from the BarBri handbook."
Harvey tried remembering and then began, "Civil liability associated with an agency is based on several factors, including-"
"-including the deviation of the agent from his path, the reasonable inference of agency on behalf of the plaintiff, and the nature of the damages themselves." Mike completed for him.
Patently impressed by the man who was caged by him, he leant closer down to his ear, "Pick a topic."
"Stock option backdating." Mike answered immediately, thinking of the first idea on his mind.
"Although backdating options are legal, violations arose related to disclosures under RIC section 409A," Harvey informed him.
"You forgot about Sarbanes-Oxley." Mike reminded him, his eyes glistening as he looked at him.
"The statute of limitations renders Sarbanes-Oxley mute post-2007."
"Well, not if you can find actions to cover up the violation as established in the Sixth Circuit in May 2008."
Finnian wasn't joking when he mentioned that Mike was Google. He was floored with the response and although he didn't explicitly tell him anything about his gift, Harvey Specter was enamoured further by this piece of elegance.
"Is that all you wanted?" Mike questioned his eyes darting back at the floor.
Looking down at him, he picked his chin up,
"For you to look into my eyes when I'm talking to you."
"Do you have to be so close to me while talking?"
"Why?" Harvey smirked and looked at the flush which was moving up Mike's ears from his cheeks. "Are you shy?"
Huddling closer to Mike who tried hopelessly to smash himself into the wall like flapping bird attempting to fly.
"Or are you uncomfortable?" Harvey interrogated with his lips descending close to his ears.
Hearing the sharp inhale of breath soothed Harvey's ache for him. Ghosting his hands over his waist, he bent closer to Mike, "Or do you like this?"
Mike's cold breath against his neck was answer enough for the brunet. Gently pressing his lips on his exposed neck instigating him to hold onto Harvey for the stability of his locomotion.
Panting, Mike bared his neck to give more access to Harvey while the man's hands slowly moved under his shirt and suddenly jerked him towards himself.
"After this, I'm taking you home." Harvey told him, nuzzling his neck and extracting a moan out of his lips.
"I would," he struggled to pour words out, clutching Harvey's suit with more force, "but I need to get back to my apartment, I have a test tomorrow morning."
Withdrawing himself from his neck, he looked down at Mike who was finally looking at him, "Then we'd have to make some different kind of arrangement."
Biting his lips, he quietly nodded his head in assent.
"Now come with me, puppy." He beckoned.
The said puppy quickly followed him and moved into the main sitting area by the stage. Finnian wasn't pleased, looking quietly at the entire situation before him.
"Mike, could you look over these?" Finnian handed the papers to him.
Letting his eyes to fall through the lines of print before him, Mike abruptly looked up at Finny, "You're signing over the club."
"Because I'm in debt." He acknowledged.
While Mike continued reading the documents before him, Finnian turned to Harvey,"Mister Specter," he began, "I have a proposition."
Harvey rolled his eyes and glared at him in disbelief at the confidence he displayed that he could even think of suggesting a proposition, "What could you possibly have that I would want?"
"Your business is huge and it could receive a boost if you have a person with many talents working for you."
"And you have this multi-talented God of business?"
"Yes, I do." He told him with a grin looking at Mike who looked like a deer caught in headlights. "He is brilliant at everything which would expand your business."
"Mike is an asset," Trevor added on, "I've known him since we were kids, his mind is freaky. He doubled all the accounts here."
With amusement laced in his voice, Harvey chuckled, "Let me get this right, you're selling one of your employees to keep your club?"
"More like giving employment opportunities?"
"How is that employment opportunities?" Harvey questioned. "You owe me quite a huge chunk of money and until he brings back that money, I am not paying him."
Mike's expression grew worse. The wrinkles on his skin grew transparently giving the state of worry he was in.
"You're selling me?" Mike's voice found them.
Trevor moved to Mike and looked at him with the best ploy of reassurance, "Mike it's an arrangement only for a while, we'll get you out."
"Are we really considering this?!" Louis' voice intervened, darting his question to Harvey.
"He is brilliant," Harvey agreed.
Mike blinked at him and looked up at him, if the situation was a little tense, Harvey would tell that he looked like a puppy. A perfect depiction of a puppy.
His eyes were growing wet, tears slipped down his cheeks which caused Trevor to bend a bit in order to pacify him.
"Mike, listen to me-"
What happened next was a flurry of moments together. Mike slide out the gun from Trevor's waist and pointed it directly to him.
"Mike," Trevor attempted to calm him down, "keep the gun down, that's not a plaything."
"I know that." Mike responded and wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt. "Step back."
Following his orders, he stepped back and let Mike move towards Finny. "Can someone hand him a pen?"
"Mike, you don't want to do this," Trevor told him while Kyle handed Finnian a pen.
"It's a standard sale agreement, you can sign it." He told Finny and pointing the gun to his head.
"Mike-"
"Sign it!"
"Mike-"
He fired on his shoulder and the room stilled more than it was needed. The temperature drop was evident and everyone present there was assured that he wouldn't fire. Turns out the puppy did have claws after all.
In less than a moment from what had occurred, Finnian picked up the pen and put his signature on the papers. Giving the papers back to Harvey, he looked at Finnian. "I quit."
Moving away from Finny but paused abruptly and returned, "Oh and by the way, it's written in it that you voluntarily will handover not only the club but also the bar in Manhattan and all of Trevor's drug dealing money so on."
"What?!" Finnian questioned, shocked at the revelation.
"You deserve it." He muttered and made his way through the men present there to the door.
Harvey looked at the papers and gave a smug smile to Finny, "We're done here."
Stepping out of the club, Harvey noticed Mike removing his bike from the alley he had parked it in.
Halting before his bike, he saw how Mike quietly peered at him waiting for the Mafia Boss to say something.
"Look," he acknowledged Harvey's presence, "I get what your trying to do but I can't let myself get anymore distracted. I have my Grammy to take care of and I still gotta get through Med school."
"Not to mention I'm officially unemployed right now too." Mike added looking at him. "I have enough problems on my plate, you don't want them on yours."
Moving his bike away from him and stood on his toes, gently pressing his lips on Harvey's cheek. "It was nice meeting you Mister Specter."
As the distance between Harvey and Mike increased, a smile tenderly touched his lips.
Mike Ross.
Filled with poison but blessed with beauty and rage.
This was just the beginning.